


the sharp knife of a short life

by venusrosy



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Family Loss, Mental Breakdown, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusrosy/pseuds/venusrosy
Summary: 17 year old Angelica Hamilton, after the tragic loss of her brother and best friend, Philip.
Relationships: Angelica Hamilton & Philip Hamilton (1782-1801)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	the sharp knife of a short life

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine Angelica being played by Megan Masako Haley (Gretchen in the Mean Girls tour). There's also a video of her singing "Burn" from Hamilton so it just works.
> 
> Also this is very sad so like get the tissues.

"Mom, when's Philip coming home?"

The air in the parlor of the Hamilton home seemed to chill and grow sour. Eliza set down her book and sat next to her daughter, pulling her head into her lap and stroking her brown curls.

"Angie, darling, Philip...he's not coming home. He's dead." Eliza said, choking on her words.

"Dead?"

"Yes. It happened two weeks ago, do you remember?"

"N-no. He's still alive."

Eliza continued petting her daughter's hair, worry sinking in. Angie had been like this ever since she found out about the loss of her brother. She used to be lively, and would dance around the house and sing songs on piano and hold conversations in French. She was a shell of her former self, and had even forgotten her own name a few times. Eliza looked back down at her daughter, who was now peacefully sleeping in her lap. She carefully slipped out from under her, placing a pillow under her head. Angie needed the rest.

Her husband's study was closed, as it had been for the past years. Ever since the Reynolds affair, they hadn't spoken much. Philip's death brought them back together, both for them and the mental wellbeing of their eldest daughter. Eliza knocked on the door, and heard a soft "come in".

"Hello, dear," Alexander said weakly, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

"Hello," Eliza said, walking over to him and grabbing his hand.

"How's Angie?"

"Not any better. She...she asked when he was coming home again. She still doesn't remember."

Alexander ran his hands down his weary face and held them there, attempring to stop tears from falling.

"I'm so sorry, Liza," he said, his voice thick with pain and anguish.

There was silence, but not the uncomfortable kind. Their hands were still intertwined.

"I'll bring you some tea," Eliza said kissing his hand and leaving the room.

Angie woke up two hours later, calling for her brother. Alexander, who had finally left his hole, ran over to his frantic daughter and sat her down on the couch.

"Where is he? Where's my brother?" Angie frantically asked, hyperventilating as she tried to escape from her father's grip on her hands.

"Angie, please, calm down," he pleaded, trying to shush her. 

Eliza rushed from her room and kneeled next to her husband, and began stroking her hair once again to calm her down. Angie began to cry, breathing heavily. She couldn't remember anything. Where was he? He wouldn't just leave! Philip couldn't be gone! He was just here!

"No! No! Stop lying! He's not gone!" Angie screamed, pulling her hands out of Alexander's grip and covering her ears, sobbing uncontrollably.

The parents stood, helpless. Neither of them knew what to do. Angie had always been sensitive and easily cried, but this was nothing compared to her usual tears about scraping her knee or falling off the carriage steps. This was real, raw anguish.

Angie ran from the parlor into her room, slamming her door behind her. He wasn't gone, she told herself. She tried to rationalize. No, he wasn't gone. He would be back someday, right?


End file.
